


That's Definitely Not the Wind

by RainbowMatildas



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Genre: Also there's bank robbers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Haunted Houses, M/M, Ryan's had it up to here with him, Shane is a little shit, You're Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 05:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMatildas/pseuds/RainbowMatildas
Summary: Sometimes what Ryan immediately claims is a ghost can be explained, Shane says. The wind. A bird. The radiator. Or, in this case, bank robbers on the run from the police.Alternatively: Buzzfeed is an asshole, faceless corporation that forces Shane and Ryan to hide their relationship on-camera. Somehow, runaway felons are involved.





	That's Definitely Not the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> This was written over the course of a _very_ boring 2-day car ride and not beta-ed. Please forgive any mistakes. Hopefully you enjoy :)
> 
> *Please note that this is not an attack on Buzzfeed, its employees, or any of its affiliates. All of this is purely fictional, and should be interpreted as such.

“It was supposed to be fun!” Ryan said for the third time, jogging to keep up with Shane’s long strides. Thunder rumbled overhead.

Shane snorted and shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “The more you say that, the more I'm convinced you're just trying to fuck with me,” he said frankly. “I mean, seriously, Ryan, the worst neighborhood in San Francisco?” He gestured to the boarded-up shithole they'd be calling home for the next 12 hours.

Ryan caught up with him as he was turning the key in the lock. “Are you actually mad at me?” He asked tentatively, panting.

“No, stupid,” Shane said, rolling his eyes. At Ryan’s unconvinced expression, he bent down to press a kiss to his lips. As always, he felt a faint tug at his chest the moment they pulled apart, like his heart was yearning for more. “I am not mad at you, Ryan Bergara,” he said with a fond smile.

Ryan finally smiled back. “Thank you, Shane Madej.”

Shane shut the door behind him after a quick scan of the street. He wasn't expecting to see anyone watching, but paranoia came as naturally as breathing lately. He and Ryan had been dating for nearly a year, but hardly anyone outside of their family and closest friends knew.

It wasn't their choice, though.

After they started dating — around the time Shane replaced Brent on Unsolved — the “Buzzfeed overlords” decided it would be best to not be too “open” on camera. “We just want to make sure the views are coming from people interested in the content, not the narrators’ relationship,” a woman in a tan pantsuit had said. “Makes for more a stable audience.” She wore a sickeningly sweet smile, but somehow, it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Shane had glared daggers, but Ryan eventually agreed. He'd poured his blood, sweat, and tears into making Unsolved. It had taken a year of planning, negotiating, organizing, and more. He couldn't bear to see his project go under after it’d only just begun, and it was only this fact that forced Shane to begrudgingly agree. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he hadn't?

Ryan wanted views to come because of the work he'd put into the show, the content, plot, and history — not his boyfriend. Shane, as much as he hated it, knew better. That's not what this was about.

Buzzfeed was considered one of the most liberal major corporations out there. Catering to a largely millennial audience, they were careful to keep their content suitable for them: lots of LGBTQ+ representation; a diverse cast of employees; and a shit-ton of Obama memes. They ate it up. They probably never suspected that the people they'd fallen in love with through a screen were being trapped by every contract, rule, and regulation on earth.

No office romances.

No references to Black Lives Matter.

No individual participation in other companies’ content.

No videos about Planned Parenthood.

No they/them pronouns unless in a LGBT video. 

And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Buzzfeed was careful to stay liberal without trespassing into the dangerous “special snowflake” territory. Only with direct approval and supervision from a superior could any of the rules be broken. Of course, no one would expect Buzzfeed of all things to be so restricted. No employee would speak out. It may be strict, but it was one of the most successful media/entertainment outlets in the world. Anyone fresh out of film school would kill to get an internship. 

It wasn't the everyday faces of Buzzfeed at fault, obviously. The Try Guys, the Ladylike girls, Shane and Ryan, and all of their friends… No, it was the big shots in charge — all the rich assholes in their fancy penthouse offices and Hillary Clinton pantsuits. 

If he thought about it too long, Shane would kick the wall, so he forced himself back to the present. Ryan was talking. 

“– think it'll be a great episode, provided we don't get murdered by a demon from the pits of Hell and all!” He was saying excitedly. He grinned at Shane so happily that Shane wouldn't help but smile back. 

“I'm sure one of us will live to tell the tale,” he laughed, sitting on the couch. “And if not, I'm sure someone will find the footage. We’ll finally pass the Try Guys in views!” 

Ryan snorted and swatted him with a throw pillow off the couch. “Shut up, dude!” 

Shane caught his hand and tugged him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. Ryan smiled and bent to meet his lips. They were content to like that for a few precious moments — Shane’s forehead resting against Ryan’s rib cage, Ryan’s fingers tangled in Shane’s hair. 

“C’mon,” Shane said finally, squeezing his hands. “Travis will be here soon, and we still have to set everything up.” 

Reluctantly, Ryan pulled away and went to pull out his equipment. Shane watched him with an inward sigh. Whatever happened, he wasn't going to lose Ryan. If Buzzfeed thought differently, they could go fuck themselves. That was a promise. 

* * *

It’d been a long night, one full of weird noises, a few strange lights, and a whole lot of Ryan freaking out. Of course, in Shane’s mind, it was all pretty circumstantial and easily explained. They did their usual bantering: Ryan insisting that it was paranormal, and Shane teasing him. It was 2 by the time they finished and he was exhausted, so he had crashed almost immediately after the camera crew left for the night. Ryan was lying next to him, but thanks to the camera set up at the foot of the stairs, they were about a foot apart in separate sleeping bags.

Now, Shane wasn’t a particularly heavy sleeper. But Ryan was a quiet crier. 

Still, Shane woke up to a strange, muffled sound beside him, and even if he didn't believe in ghosts, he sure as hell believed in rats. He stifled a yawn and sat up to bat away whatever rodent had wandered in, but stopped short when he realized that it didn't sound very rat-like. (And he would know after the Queen Mary incident.) 

No, this sounded more like… crying? 

Shane was suddenly wide awake. He turned over to see a small ball of quivering blankets on the floor next to him. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled back the blanket to see Ryan’s bloodshot eyes. 

“Ry, what the–“ He murmured, slowly unraveling the tangle of blankets. “Are you actually that scared?” 

His boyfriend laughed mirthlessly. “No, Shane, I'm just crying in a sleeping bag at 3 am because it's fun,” he snapped with a sniffle. 

Shane faltered. “I thought you were just playing it up for the camera. You should've said something,” he said, taking his hand in his. 

“Ha, good one, Shane,” Ryan said bitterly. “So you make fun of me and claim none of it's real? So you can be the big, tough guy and I'll be stupid, naive Ryan — just like always? Fat chance, Shane!” He pulled his hand away so hard that his nails scratched Shane’s palm. 

Shane was silent, holding his stinging hand to his chest. He would've been lying if he said he wasn't fighting the urge to cry. But Ryan was still scared, and angrily, and upset. Shane crying wouldn't help anything. 

“I… I'm sorry—“ He started, but was cut off by a loud _bang!_ above them. 

Both of them jumped, Ryan nearly diving into his arms. Shane held him close, breathing hard as his mind raced. _What the hell?_ Ryan shifted to glare up at him. 

“That's some crazy wind, huh?” He said tearfully. 

“Ryan, be quiet.” 

“What?! No! You don't get to–“

Shane clapped a hand over his mouth and sent him a stern look. “Quiet,” he hissed. “This is an old, vacant house in a shit neighborhood. I don't think that's a ghost.” 

After a moment, he pulled his hand away and listened. Footsteps above them walked the length of the room, then came another crash. (Ryan jumped, but stayed silent.) 

Without another word, Shane slipped out of his sleeping bag and grabbed the poker from the fireplace. He tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs, then looked back at Ryan. 

“Don't!” He mouthed frantically. “Are you crazy?” 

Shane pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. Ryan hesitated, then grabbed a lamp off the coffee table and followed him. 

They made their way slowly up the old, rickety stairs. One step creaked loudly under Shane’s weight. They both froze and held their breaths, but the footsteps didn't come closer. Letting out a sigh of relief, they cautiously moved on. 

Shane paused at the top of the stairs, listening. He could hear muffled voices behind the door at the end of the hallway. They crept towards the door, and when they were standing in front of it, paused to press their ears to the wall. 

“$500! All that work and we didn't even get away with a grand? Fucking Manny — why did we make him drive the get–away car? Fuckin’ pussy-ass dude drives like my granny.” 

Shane and Ryan exchanged nervous looks. Just as the latter was about to run back downstairs, a different voice spoke up. “I heard this place is supposed to be haunted as all hell, man.” 

“Shut up, Drew,” the first man snapped. “Ain't no ghosts here. All we gotta worry about is the cops.” 

Shane took a step backwards. The floor freaked, and everything seemed to freeze. The voices stopped. Shane and Ryan stared at each other in fear. The doorknob started to turn, and Shane screwed his eyes shut, ready for whatever would come next when —

“OoOoOoOoOo!” 

His eyes snapped open. 

Ryan's hands were cupped around his mouth. “OoOoOoOoOo!” 

“What the fuck was that, bro?!” 

“I don't know! Shut up!” 

Without a second thought, Shane grabbed the doorknob and rattled it hard. Summoning his most demon-y voice, he attempted a guttural snarl. “Get out of my house!” 

Ryan smacked the wall a few times for good measure. 

A girlish shriek came from behind the wall. “I told you, man, they got demons up in this shit!” 

“We gotta get out of here!” 

“They're gonna rip our skulls out of our mouths!” 

Shane and Ryan had to cover their mouths to stifle their giggles. “Time for the grand finale,” Ryan mouthed. “Loud!” 

Shane nodded and held up three fingers. 

1…

2…

3…

“Get out!” They shouted. 

The screams were like nothing they'd ever heard. There were muffled thumps and the sound of breaking glass, then two loud thumps outside and more shrieking. Shane and Ryan dove to the nearest window to see two figures take off into the darkness, still screaming at the top of their lungs. 

* * *

They called the police after that, and their film crew, since it seemed like a good time to pack up. As Shane and Ryan gave their statements to the police, Shane noticed with a jolt that at some point his arm moved to wrap around Ryan’s shoulders. He was even more surprised to find that Ryan was actually leaning into his touch. When he looked around, he saw Travis, their cameraman, amongst the neighbors milling around in pajamas. It took him a second before he realized he was filming them. Their eyes met, and Travis shot him a thumbs-up. To his own surprise, Shane smiled back. 

Later, Shane strode into his supervisor’s office. “My boyfriend and I made you a new most watched video. If you want to fire me, fine. But I have a feeling you won't want to after looking at the views on this video,” he said bluntly. With that, he turned on his heel and walked out. 

He was right. 


End file.
